“Nah dude, it’s fine. It’s even great. It’s a common part of learning to speak like a human being.” Kevin shut up from that point forward since he was fighting a boss. I knew not to talk to him when he was fighting a boss – last time I did, he lost, blamed me, and got decently upset.
Was I talking differently? Was it a good thing? I didn’t know, but I guess I trusted Kevin’s judgment. There were worse fates than talking like everyone else, I suppose.
***
Morgan didn’t accompany us when we went to the library after that, even just to get driven home. Part of me felt bad – she did buy me food, and in general she had at least a sense of justice, which I respected. I didn’t feel bad for standing up for myself though. I submitted too much around the house. To Kevin, to Mother, to Father, to anyone with a loud enough voice. I doubt I would have been able to stand up to Morgan like how I did if it wasn’t over a phone.
Another thing changed. We ended up going to the library less and less, and her house more and more. I guess the library was just an idea she had. To Taylor’s credit, somehow she was able to pick up on concepts faster at her own house. That said, every single time I went to her house, it was the same level of clean, the basement was the same level of messy, and her mom was even in the exact same position. I don’t know why that sameness bothered me so much, but it just baffled me.
“Alright, you’re all caught up,” I announced as I closed the textbook. “We could work ahead a little more, but something tells me…”
“Yeah, pass,” Taylor laughed. I gave her a smile in response. “Thanks, Quinn. You have no idea how much of a load off my shoulders this is.” She took out her phone and began fiddling with it.
“It’s actually really, uh, cool to see your growth in all this. It’s really clear you actually want to learn and stuff. I’m, uh, proud of you,” I borderline stuttered.
Taylor flicked her eyes from her phone back to me and smiled distractedly. “Ha, thanks,” she replied. “I’m sorry if I was, like, out of it for some of the lesson.”
I stared confusedly at her. “You weren’t, it’s fine. I didn’t notice anything at least.”
“That’s a relief,” she mumbled to herself.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, just… y’know, more boy trouble,” she sighed.
“Anything you want to talk about? Like, only if you want of course.”
She sighed and put down her phone. “It’s just, like, boys being boys again really. I don’t wanna get too into it, but like, Cliffnotes version…”
I smiled. Of course she knew Cliffnotes.
“…I was super close to getting with a new guy. We, like, hit it off really well, had a lot to talk about, and holy shit, he looked good. Like, I’m serious. Like, the genetics in his whole fucking family is like… out there, you know? Anyway, so like, we start talking and I think, ‘oh my God, I got a chance with this guy,’ and then he just has to go and ruin it.”
“Ruin it? How so?” I asked, listening intently.
She sighed. “I probably shouldn’t tell you that,” she mumbled. “Red flags. The kinda shit you were talking about at the lunch table that one time. Just men. Just, fuckin’… men.”
I nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, Taylor. It must be frustrating to have things go so well for you in a certain way and then lose it.”
She chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, thanks for spelling it out,” she replied.
“Sorry.”
“Nah, don’t be. That is totally how it is. That’s how it is a lot. I appreciate you understanding it, at least. I bet a lot of gifted kids look at me and go, ‘oh, she can’t complain, she’s popular.’ But it kinda sucks to be popular and still feel like you’re going nowhere, because, like… what am I doing wrong?”
I sat in thought for a second. “I think the question there is flawed.”
“Huh?”
“Well, if you and this guy are hitting it off, and he gives you a bunch of red flags, and you step away for that reason, what actions did you even have control over besides choosing to protect yourself and walk away? The independent variable here was the level of respect he gave you. If the dependent variable’s result was you walking away, that can’t be blamed on you. You and him interacting as you normally do are just, like, a control variable.”
Taylor gave me a sarcastic look. “Relatable,” she quipped. “I think I understood like half of that.” She shook her head. “But anyway, I still feel like I could have acted better or something. I dunno. It keeps happening, so in your words, aren’t I the, uh… the, um, the control tester?”
“Common denominator?”
She shrugged. “Probably.”
“I think that’s just confirmation bias. Honestly, I think a lot of high school guys are just douchebags.”
She bit her lip. “Yeah, I sure have seen a fucking lot of that.” She nodded to herself for a bit. “Thanks for not being one of them. You could have easily sent my nudes around for clout or some shit.”
“The school year – no, my entire high school career is almost finished. Even if I wanted to, what would it get me? A few high fives? You sent that to me knowing what it meant to me, so I dunno, the absolute least I can do is respect the source. Besides, that should be the standard, not a kindness I extend to you. If you give me what I want and ask me to show you common respect, and I don’t respect it, I didn’t deserve it in the first place. It’s not a kindness to respect you, it’s what you deserve. I don’t care how popular you are.”
Taylor smiled toothily with her tongue sticking slightly out between her teeth. It was cute. “Fuck, I wish you were popular, Quinn,” she admitted. “I’d like the popular guys to want to listen to, like, people like you.”
“Maybe it’s not coincidence that I’m unpopular and have these opinions. Maybe popularity corrupts a lot of people,” I replied slowly.
“Do you think it got to me yet?” she joked.
I chuckled. “I think it gets to all of us in some ways or another. Unpopularity too. There are a few things I wish could have happened, even just for curiosity’s sake.”
“Like what?”
“Like just knowing how to talk to people or something. Or having firsthand knowledge of relationships so I don’t look like a dork when I get my first girlfriend at age twenty-eight. I bet there were a few times you wished you could be unpopular, just to see what it’s like.”
“Honestly, it’s like, never crossed my mind.”
I shrugged. “Fair enough. But it’s like this weird segregation. Us even talking like this is a fluke. And you like to date and stuff – have you ever dated anybody unpopular?”
Taylor lowered an eyebrow at me and smiled sarcastically. I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment. “I’m not insinuating anything, I swear,” I nervously laughed. “Just asking for curiosity’s sake.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, still smiling slightly. “Alright, no. No, okay? It’s not like I avoid it, but it just… never happens.”
“I guess it’s just the way high school is,” I mused. “And again, not trying to insinuate anything. I want to be able to talk about this as your, um… is it cool to say, ‘friend?'”
“Quinn, you’re such a dork,” Taylor grinned. “Of course you can say it.”
“Okay. Yeah, as your friend. I’m not trying to win you over or convince you to date me or anything. Sometimes I even feel bad about the picture thing.”